She shrugged her shoulders.
“It depends who we go with. Often I don’t care for them much. And the girls you see there are frightfully common.”
He could not bring himself to ask her straight out what he feared. If it were so, let it rest unrevealed. The knowledge would make no difference to his resolution. People began to come into the café, shaking the wet from their shoulders; and the noise of the rain was audible above the conversation.
“I wish we could have had one fine day together,” said Michael regretfully. “Do you remember when we used to go for long walks in the winter?”
“I must have been very fond of you,” Lily laughed. “I don’t think you could make me walk like that now.”
“Aren’t you so fond of me now?” he asked reproachfully.
“You ought to know,” she whispered.
All the way home the raindrops were flashing in the road like bayonets, and her cheeks were dabbled with the wet.
“Shall I come in?” Michael asked, as he waited by the door in the wall.
“Yes, come in and have something to drink, of course.”